


Cleansing

by theonsfavouritetoy



Series: Droughtjoy 2017 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Droughtjoy 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: Theon takes a bath and has all kinds of flashbacks.Jon reacts.





	Cleansing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldenkraken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenkraken/gifts).



> Droughtjoy 2017 continues!  
> This one is for all the Jon/Theon shippers like me out there, platonic or otherwise, but especially for @catsavant, who's addicted to them :)

The Queen has come back.  
Theon can't understand what everyone's talking about.  
Night King this, White Walker that, but Jon is seriously concerned and Daenerys has promised to help him once Cersei isn't a threat to her.

He has spoken to the Queen, and she's assured him that they'll get Yara back.  
Once they have that wight thing, they'll be going to a big parlay in King's Landing, and they'll see from there.

Theon is crushed that he can't sail to his sister's aid immediately, he has half a mind to just go on his own.  
But Daenerys is their queen, and he'll do as she commands. Besides, the Ironborn would never sail under his command.

When she had seen his disappointment and pain, she had tried to comfort him. 

"I am certain your sister's alive, Theon Greyjoy. You know your uncle. Wouldn't he let you know if it was otherwise?"  
And Theon knows it's true. He'd be cradling her severed head by now if Euron had killed her already.

So his wait continues.  
It's strange, being here, safe, knowing Yara's going through hell at the same time.  
Theon tries to do what she'd do if it was the other way round.  
Carry on.

So he tries to act as normal as possible, and when a servant offers to draw him a bath, he doesn't protest.

The tub is full to the brim with hot water and Theon tries to relax, he really tries.  
But he's thinking of another bath, a treat, back then.  
He can't bring himself to reach for the cloth, he wants another to do it.  
He wants the master. 

Theon hates himself for this thought, but he can't help it. The master was so kind, so gentle at this time.  
The door opens and for a second he thinks his heart will jump out of his chest.

But of course it's not the master, the master's dead, the master can't touch Theon ever again.  
And he weeps into the water at that thought, not knowing if from joy or loneliness.

"What's wrong? The Queen said she'll help you, didn't she?"

Jon, of course. Theon wants to disappear beneath the water, doesn't want Jon to see.  
But he comes closer, he sits on the side of the tub, and Theon shivers away from him, his face still in his hands.  
He's disgusted with himself, now he's even crying in front of the bastard.

Theon nearly faints when he feels a touch on his head, fingers carding through his hair, and he thinks he must be dreaming.  
But when he looks up it's Jon, it's Jon touching him, Jon who yanks back his hand as if burned, his face red.

"What's wrong, Theon?"  
Again, the question, but Theon can't answer it. Too many words, not enough time. Not enough trust, not yet.

So he just sits there, hugging his knees to his chest, rocking his body ever so slightly, avoiding Jon's gaze.  
Finally, an idea, something he can say, something not dangerous. 

"Did you want something, Jon?"

"I came to say farewell. We're leaving for Eastwatch on the morrow."

"Oh. Well, good luck... I guess?"

Jon's voice sounds strained.  
"We'll need a lot of that, to be sure. The Night King's army is... You haven't seen him, you can't understand how it's like."

"Tell me, then."

And Jon tells Theon about the Walkers, about Hardhome, about the Night King. Everything.  
While talking, he absentmindedly picks up the cloth und dunks it into the water.  
A jolt of - joy? horror? runs through Theon when Jon drags it softly over his shoulders.

He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of being cared for, all the while listening to Jon's voice.  
"Lean forward."

And Theon does, happy to oblige.  
"Yes, my lord."

The touches stop and it tears him out of his reverie.  
Has he done something wrong? Panic rises in his chest and he ducks, awaiting a blow, a knife.  
Nothing happens.

"Theon?"  
Not his name, not his master's voice. He wants the master to say it,  
good Reek, loyal Reek. 

"Theon, for fuck's sake, will you stop that?"  
And Theon remembers, the master gone, Jon here with him, seeing him so weak, so vulnerable.  
He tries to get a grip on himself and for the first time since he's come in, he looks at Jon's face.

He sees shock, annoyance, worry. And fury.  
What has he done to make Jon so furious? He can ask, Jon will not punish him for asking.

"Why you so angry at me, Jon?"

Jon moans.  
"I'm not angry at you, you dumb shit. Well, of course I am, but not now. I'm angry at HIM, this evil bastard, this monster!! Look at you!"

Theon knows what he means.  
"I'm disgusting."

And he gets a wet cloth across the face.  
And two hands on his shoulders.  
Jon is halfway in the tub, grabbing Theon painfully hard.

"Look at me. Look at me!!"

Theon looks up. 

"You are not! He was, what he's done to you is, but not you!"

And Theon feels a new feeling burning in his chest, rising in his throat.  
Rage, it is rage, and he spits it at Jon.

"You look at ME! Are you fucking blind? Can't you see what I am? He's taken... everything... that was Theon Greyjoy, everything!!!"  
And he nearly jumps up in his fit and he sees Jon's gaze drop, and he opens his mouth and is staring, staring at it, staring at his shame, horror and disgust plain on his face.

His anger deflating at once, Theon realizes what he's done. He's sinking back, making himself as small as he can.  
Even if there's no use to it anymore.  
He's out in the open now, and nothing can protect him from the shame ever again. 

He does expect Jon to vomit, to recoil, to tell everyone what a nauseating creature he is.  
He doesn't expect Jon to yank him up, to draw his head onto his chest, to stroke his hair, to feel his tears falling onto his head.

"Goodness, Theon... I am so sorry, I can't even... seven hells, I want to kill him all over again!"

And he continues stroking Theon's hair as Theon's body is shaken by sobs, humiliated, relieved, he's mumbling all kinds of things,

"Sssh, it's over, you'll be fine, he's gone, you're still Theon, you're still you..."

Theon lets himself relax into the first arms to hold him since the ma- since Ramsay's, a conscious effort, and a thought crosses his mind.  
He has to try. He cannot sit and wait anymore. Theon Greyjoy wouldn't have. Yara wouldn't.

"When you're leaving tomorrow... I want to come with you. I want to help."


End file.
